above. A forest of timber and brush bordered both sides of this Red River, and once down in it neither river nor plain could be seen. Jett spent the remainder of that day making permanent camp. Follonsbee, whom he had sent on a reconnoitering ride up the river, returned about sunset.
"Believe I saw fifty square miles of buffalo," he announced, impressively, sitting in his saddle and gazing down at the leader.
"Huh! I took that for granted," replied Jett. "How far did you go?"
"Reckon about five miles up an' climbed a big bluff above the river. Could see for miles. An' shore that sight stumped me.
Why, Rand, I couldn't see the end of buffalo, an' I was usin' the telescope, too!"
"That's more to the point--how many outfits could you spot?" demanded Jett, impatiently.
"Wal, I spotted enough, an' some to spare," drawled the other.
"West of the bluff I seen camp smokes all along the river, as far as I could see."
"Any camps close?"
"Only two between ours an' the bluff," replied Follonsbee. "Then there's one on the point across the creek. Reckon outfits are strung down the river, too. Buffalo everywhere."
"Ahuh! It's the main herd. Now, I wonder will they run north."
"Reckon so. But if they do they'll turn back."
"You figger on their bein' blocked by the gang of hide-hunters behind us?"
"Prezactly. We couldn't be in a better stand. This big herd is massed in a triangle. River on the south; Staked Plain on the west, an' on the third side thousands of hunters."
"Yes. It's seems that way. Mighty big bit of country, but it IS a trap."
"Where do the Indians come in your calculatin'?" queried Follonsbee.
"Nowhere. If they get mean the buffalo-hunters will band together an' do what the soldiers couldn't do--chase the damned redskins up in their Staked Plain an' kill them."
"Wal, it looks like a hell of a summer, huh?"
"I reckon so, all around. It means the end of the buffalo, an' that means peace with the Indians, whether they fight or not."
"Rand, this is the huntin' ground of Comanches, Cheyennes, Kiowas, an' Arapahoes. The land an' the buffalo are theirs."
"Theirs--hell!" exploded Jett, in contempt.
"Shore I know your sentiments," returned Follonsbee, rather shortly. "Like most of these hide-hunters, you say wipe the redskins off the earth. To me it looks like a dirty trick. I'd rather steal from a white man than an Indian. . . . But I'm givin' you my idee for what it's worth. We'll have to fight."
Jett appeared for the moment in a brown study, while he paced up and down, swinging a short rope he had in his hand.
"If the Indians are on the war-path, as we hear, won't they wait till this bunch of hunters has a big store of hides on hand--before startin' that fight?" he queried, shrewdly.
"I reckon they would," admitted Follonsbee.
"An' when they do come raidin', we're goin' to get the hunch in plenty of time, aren't we?" went on Jett.
"We shore have a fine stand. With hunters east an' west of us, an' millions of buffalo out there, we can't hardly be surprised."
"Wal, then, what's eatin' you?" growled Jett.
"Nothin.' I was just gettin' things clear. We're agreed on the main points. Now one more. The sooner we make a big stake, the better?"
Jett nodded a significant acquiescence to that query, and then went about his tasks. Follonsbee, dismounting, took the saddle off his horse. Soon after that Mrs. Jett called them to supper.
At this camp Milly lost her wagon as an abode, a circumstance, on the moment, much to her displeasure. The wagon, being high off the ground, and with its box sides, had afforded more of protection, if not comfort. Jett had removed hoops and canvas bodily and had established them as a tent, a little distance from the main camp.
Milly pondered apprehensively over this removal by some rods from the rest of the tents. Perhaps Mrs. Jett had inspired this innovation, and if so Milly felt that she would welcome it. But she had doubts of every move made by the leader of the outfit.
Upon
"Believe I saw fifty square miles of buffalo," he announced, impressively, sitting in his saddle and gazing down at the leader.
"Huh! I took that for granted," replied Jett. "How far did you go?"
"Reckon about five miles up an' climbed a big bluff above the river. Could see for miles. An' shore that sight stumped me.
Why, Rand, I couldn't see the end of buffalo, an' I was usin' the telescope, too!"
"That's more to the point--how many outfits could you spot?" demanded Jett, impatiently.
"Wal, I spotted enough, an' some to spare," drawled the other.
"West of the bluff I seen camp smokes all along the river, as far as I could see."
"Any camps close?"
"Only two between ours an' the bluff," replied Follonsbee. "Then there's one on the point across the creek. Reckon outfits are strung down the river, too. Buffalo everywhere."
"Ahuh! It's the main herd. Now, I wonder will they run north."
"Reckon so. But if they do they'll turn back."
"You figger on their bein' blocked by the gang of hide-hunters behind us?"
"Prezactly. We couldn't be in a better stand. This big herd is massed in a triangle. River on the south; Staked Plain on the west, an' on the third side thousands of hunters."
"Yes. It's seems that way. Mighty big bit of country, but it IS a trap."
"Where do the Indians come in your calculatin'?" queried Follonsbee.
"Nowhere. If they get mean the buffalo-hunters will band together an' do what the soldiers couldn't do--chase the damned redskins up in their Staked Plain an' kill them."
"Wal, it looks like a hell of a summer, huh?"
"I reckon so, all around. It means the end of the buffalo, an' that means peace with the Indians, whether they fight or not."
"Rand, this is the huntin' ground of Comanches, Cheyennes, Kiowas, an' Arapahoes. The land an' the buffalo are theirs."
"Theirs--hell!" exploded Jett, in contempt.
"Shore I know your sentiments," returned Follonsbee, rather shortly. "Like most of these hide-hunters, you say wipe the redskins off the earth. To me it looks like a dirty trick. I'd rather steal from a white man than an Indian. . . . But I'm givin' you my idee for what it's worth. We'll have to fight."
Jett appeared for the moment in a brown study, while he paced up and down, swinging a short rope he had in his hand.
"If the Indians are on the war-path, as we hear, won't they wait till this bunch of hunters has a big store of hides on hand--before startin' that fight?" he queried, shrewdly.
"I reckon they would," admitted Follonsbee.
"An' when they do come raidin', we're goin' to get the hunch in plenty of time, aren't we?" went on Jett.
"We shore have a fine stand. With hunters east an' west of us, an' millions of buffalo out there, we can't hardly be surprised."
"Wal, then, what's eatin' you?" growled Jett.
"Nothin.' I was just gettin' things clear. We're agreed on the main points. Now one more. The sooner we make a big stake, the better?"
Jett nodded a significant acquiescence to that query, and then went about his tasks. Follonsbee, dismounting, took the saddle off his horse. Soon after that Mrs. Jett called them to supper.
At this camp Milly lost her wagon as an abode, a circumstance, on the moment, much to her displeasure. The wagon, being high off the ground, and with its box sides, had afforded more of protection, if not comfort. Jett had removed hoops and canvas bodily and had established them as a tent, a little distance from the main camp.
Milly pondered apprehensively over this removal by some rods from the rest of the tents. Perhaps Mrs. Jett had inspired this innovation, and if so Milly felt that she would welcome it. But she had doubts of every move made by the leader of the outfit.
Upon
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